


And we deserve much better than we’ve had (I wanna love you good)

by manesalex



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Ableism, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Amputation, Canon-Typical Violence, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Medical Inaccuracies, Slut Shaming, Victim Blaming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:46:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23619232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manesalex/pseuds/manesalex
Summary: A familiar face gets captured and brought aboard the naval ship Alex is working on.
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Comments: 21
Kudos: 89
Collections: Time After Time: A Roswell New Mexico Alternate Era AU Event





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [moderngenius94](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moderngenius94/gifts).



> Inspired by [Cosmo Jarvis’s “Gay Pirates”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dysG12QCdTA&feature=youtu.be).

Michael looks so different than Alex remembers, once soft curls grown long, matted, and dirty, once sweet face covered with grime and hidden by a beard. But it’s unmistakably him as he’s dragged in, cursing up a storm, being tossed in the formerly empty cell.

Alex watches as his wrath turns toward the one person left in the room. Him. The guard. He waits it out as Michael pauses. And then, “I see it didn’t take _you_ long to sign up. You _enjoy_ killing pirates now?”

Alex sighs but, otherwise, doesn’t respond, already too busy working through the calculations in his brain. He knows what he needs to do, just doesn’t know how it ends with either one of them alive. But he’ll figure it out.

“You’re just like him, you know.”

Alex flinches at that but, otherwise, tries not to react. He’s okay with Michael thinking the worst of him. As long as he’s alive to think it. And it’s not like he’s wrong.

“You gonna let them hang me, Alex?” he asks, anger gone, replaced by the flirtation Michael had always used on women. Never on him. No, with him there had been no pretense.

“I’m working on it,” he admits quietly. It’s only been a few minutes. He needs time to plan.

“Don’t work too hard. Don’t matter what happens to me, after all. As long as your daddy is proud of you.”

Alex doesn’t bother to correct him. He doesn’t need to know that, in truth, it doesn’t matter what happens to _him_. As long as Michael is alive and free.

* * *

He’s lucky the captain doesn’t recognize Michael. Just another filthy pirate. Not the boy who is rumored to have been caught in Alex Manes’ bed so long ago. If he did, Alex’s guard duty would be gone. And, in all likelihood, Michael would already be dead. A service to Alex’s father. The captain would probably get a promotion out of it.

After he leaves watch duty, he patrols the deck, looking for potential options to get Michael out. There’s nothing good. No good way to help him escape. But he’ll only have a chance before they reach land. Then Michael will be out of his hands and entirely lost to him.

He continues to think about it when the captain visits him after supper for the violence which has become his usual lot in life. He knows what they’ll do to him if he doesn’t just submit and take it. And now, well, now it’s more important than ever that he not make waves. Even if the captain’s touch makes his skin crawl.

And then, finally, he’s left alone to sleep. Not that Alex has ever slept well, outside of that brief week in which Michael had been in his bed with him.

* * *

Michael is quieter when he reaches the cell the next morning. He looks sad. Hurt. “You know they talk about you, right?”

Alex nods, examining his fingernails, sitting closer to the bars than he would with anyone else in that cell. But Michael… Unless he’s changed completely, Alex is certain he’s not going to hurt him.

“They hate you, Alex. They’re disgusted by you. Call you the captain’s little whore.”

He flinches at that but doesn’t respond otherwise.

“Just… Just tell me he treats you right?”

Alex doesn’t know how to respond. He can’t look at Michael and lie. Not when he’s being _Michael_ again. Not when his tone is so gentle.

“I’m surviving,” he says instead. “Not all of us have a choice about where we end up.”

“Fuck, Alex! You had all the choices! You could’ve left with me! We could’ve found a place of our own. Like you said.”

Alex smiles sadly at the reminder of that dream. That week they had spent planning a future together. But it had all been shattered when his father found out. “You don’t know my father like I do.”

“I sure as hell know what he did to you! The fact that you stayed with that monster, I-”

“Tell me about where you ended up,” Alex interrupts, voice soft. He hears enough of that in his head. He can’t hear it from Michael too. Instead, he needs to hear that his sacrifice was worth it.

He leans with his back against the bars, smiling at the feel of Michael mirroring his position, drawing comfort from his touch. And he listens silently as Michael tells him about Captain Isobel Evans and her ship.

* * *

“Please tell me he treats you right,” Michael pleads again the next day, when Alex is already leaning against the bars, reaching back so his fingers can touch those on Michael’s uninjured hand.

“Does it matter?” Alex asks tiredly.

“Please?”

Alex sighs, takes a deep breath, and speaks, “It’s better than my last assignment. This captain is possessive. And he’s not violent. Not if he gets what he wants.”

“What was your last assignment like, Alex?” Michael’s voice is angry, but he’s not pulling away.

“They assumed, because of my proclivities… There were a lot of them.” He’s trying to think about anything but the sensation of being held down, of being forced.

“Alex…” Michael’s voice is filled with barely contained rage.

“It wasn’t all bad,” Alex tries to reassure him. “There was a man on board who would clean up my injuries. He was kind to me. He didn’t… He didn’t expect anything for it. He was just kind.”

Michael’s hand squeezes his and Alex squeezes back, asking softly, “Please, can we talk about something else?”

He can feel Michael’s hand shaking, but he continues to tell Alex about Captain Isobel and her ongoing feud, or what sounds closer to a courtship, with the captain of another ship, a woman named Maria.

* * *

It’s the fourth day when it happens. Alex is on his way to Michael’s cell when there are shouts and then the sound of an explosion and then worse, water rushing _into_ the hull of the ship.

Alex runs as fast as he can toward Michael’s cell, pulling his keys loose as he moves. “I was hoping for more time to get supplies stored, but we have to go now, Michael,” he says as he quickly slides the key into the lock and turns it.

Michael is right there, pushing through the bars when Alex gets the door open, letting Alex lead the way up and out toward the deck.

They move as fast as they can, Alex checking behind him constantly for Michael.

Alex is just rounding a corner when it happens. When he runs almost headfirst into the captain.

He’s far larger than Alex, far stronger, and Alex can’t help the way he freezes at the sight of him. It’s only Michael, pressed warm against his back, oddly comforting in spite of everything, that reminds him to move. Too late.

The captain’s blade misses its intended target, glancing off of Alex’s calf instead as he, thankfully, stumbles.

Alex doesn’t miss his chance, unsheathing his blade and driving it through the captain, shoving him to the side and continuing to lead Michael toward the surface.

They finally emerge into the sunlight to chaos onboard, naval officers manning the canons, distracted by another ship. A pirate ship that, based on what Alex sees, is already going down. As will this ship.

He pulls Michael with him to the other side, watching closely for any other soldiers to notice them, as Michael frees a boat and loads it with the few supplies Alex has found time to stash.

And then he’s climbing in and reaching for Alex.

“I’ll buy you time,” Alex insists, squeezing Michael’s remaining hand. “Go.” There is absolutely no way they’d make it to land with the supplies there and Alex… Alex can accept what he needs to do for Michael to live. To give Michael a shot.

“No,” Michael is shaking his head rapidly, dirty curls flying with the movement. “I’m not leaving you behind. Not _again_.”

Alex gently cups his face with both hands, stopping his movement, “You didn’t. I chose to stay.” He’s surprised by the tears sliding down Michael’s face. But he brushes them aside carefully with his thumbs. “I’m choosing to stay now.”

“Alex-”

Alex silences Michael’s protest with a kiss, surprisingly gentle and with a hint of salt from both their tears. And then, “Now go.”

He reaches out to start lowering the boat, but Michael jumps back on board, arm on his. “If you don’t go, I won’t go.”

Alex glances away, surprised they haven’t caught anyone’s attention, but they remain unnoticed on their part of the deck. It won’t last much longer, he’s certain. “Okay,” he gives in, pushing Michael back toward the small boat and following him, making sure the oars are in place before lowering them both to the ocean’s surface.

Neither one of them sees the ships sink to the ocean floor, rowing as fast as they can away from what they know could pull them down too.

* * *

Michael’s hands are surprisingly gentle as he examines the small cut on Alex’s calf. “Doesn’t look too bad,” he says, looking up at Alex for a moment before he bandages it carefully.

“I told you. It’s nothing,” Alex replies softly, looking out at the vast blue, as far as his eyes can see. He thought they should try heading toward land. East. It shouldn’t be hard to at least head in that direction. But Michael had insisted on taking care of him first.

“A second pair of eyes never hurts,” Michael reminds him. That’s fair, Alex guesses. Michael spent plenty of time bandaging him up in the past. When they were children. “You wanna talk about that now? About why you stayed back then?” Michael asks carefully.

“What’s to say?” Alex replies. “I stayed. You left.” When he sees Michael’s face, he reassures him, “I’m glad you left. I wanted you to. It just wasn’t that simple for me.”

“Your father was hurting you!” Michael replies angrily.

“Yes. And he hurt you,” Alex nods at his hand, the two fingers that are missing, thanks to his father. He shakes his head. “We can talk about this or we can work on finding land.”

Michael sighs, but finally nods, handing Alex the oars. “You want to go first, Your Grace?”

“Not a duke, Michael,” Alex replies, but he takes the oars from him and starts to row.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After escaping the naval ship together, Michael tries to keep Alex alive and with him.

Michael was ten years old when his mother found work in Jesse Manes’s household as governess to his children, bringing Michael along with her.

Jesse didn’t want Michael anywhere near his own children but, when he was gone, his mother would teach him alongside the youngest, Alex. And, while the other boys were cruel to him, Alex was always kind.

This continued as they grew older. Even as Michael should have gone off to find work elsewhere, Alex made sure he always had a warm roof over his head, a belly full of food, and a safe place to stay, even when it meant Michael sneaking in through his window in the dead of night.

In return, Michael would carefully bandage the wounds Alex’s father gave him without asking about them.

In truth, he could have found a place to stay elsewhere. He had an apprenticeship by then. But all he had wanted since he was a child was to be close to Alex Manes in any way Alex would allow.

And then, one day, when Jesse Manes had been gone for a while and wasn’t due to return for a while more, Alex had kissed him. So tentatively. So gently. The gentlest touch Michael had experienced from anyone outside of his mother in a life full of pain.

They hadn’t lasted long enough. One perfect week of gentle touches and soft kisses. One week dreaming about a future where they could be happy together, a future Michael had been dreaming of for years.

And then Jesse had found Michael in bed with Alex. And it was over. Alex never left with him like they planned. Never found him to say goodbye. So Michael had set off on his own, looking to find another home.

* * *

It’s been a few days on the raft and Michael is certain that, if they don’t find land soon, Alex will die. They still have provisions, enough to last a few days more, but Alex’s wound has gotten far worse, going from a small cut to inflamed and foul smelling, his skin feverish, his eyes glassy.

He knows he shouldn’t worry so much about Alex’s well-being after their past, after Alex didn’t choose him, but he does. He’s certain some part of him will always love Alex, no matter how he’s hurt him.

If it were up to Alex, Michael is certain he’d just let himself die, but Michael will not allow that. He’ll keep making Alex drink water, trying to get him to swallow bites of food.

Thankfully, on the fifth day, he spots a familiar sail on the horizon. Captain Maria Deluca’s ship. She’s not exactly a friend, but her rivalry with Isobel is more flirtatious than serious, so Michael does his best to get their attention. And it’s not long before both him and Alex are being pulled on board.

“You brought a navy man with you?!” Maria asks, glaring at Alex, who is barely conscious but very much still in uniform. “Are you _trying_ to get yourself killed?!”

“He saved my life!” Michael objects instantly. “And, anyway, isn’t your medic a former navy man?” he asks. He’s only met Kyle Valenti a handful of times and he doesn’t particularly trust him, but he’s heard enough to know that the man chose to leave the navy and join up with Maria and her crew.

“He has valuable skills,” Maria replies evenly. She’s not wrong. Maria is lucky she has a trained physician aboard her ship, rather than just a cook, to patch up her wounded.

“And Alex has valuable knowledge.” Truthfully, he can’t be certain of that. He _hopes_ Alex will be able to provide details of his father’s plans, but he has no guarantee. But Michael will promise what it takes to keep Alex safe and he’ll find a way to deliver later.

“Alex?” Maria asks. She doesn’t wait for confirmation before she turns and shouts over her shoulder, “Kyle! Is this the Manes boy you’ve spoken of?!”

Maria’s medic comes rushing over, instantly dropping to the ground in front of Alex, “Please let me help him,” he pleads.

Maria nods, but turns to Michael to say, “As soon as we catch up to Isobel, she’s taking on all the trouble that you and your navy boy come with.”

* * *

Michael is quiet as he helps carry Alex to Kyle’s quarters. Kyle is kind, but professional, hands gentle as he examines Alex’s leg while Michael strokes Alex’s hair, uncertain what else to do but desperate for the comfort of doing _something_.

“The infection is too deep,” Kyle says after a moment. “The only way to save his life is to take his leg.”

Michael stills, well aware that alone is usually a death sentence. He’s heard of many pirates losing a leg and then their life shortly after, before they even have time to heal.

“I’m much better at this than a cook,” Kyle says, tone firm but not exactly reassuring.

Still, Michael doesn’t know enough about this to argue with him. So he nods. “What do you need me to do?”

“He’s barely conscious now,” Kyle points out, “But he will fight me. I will need you to hold him down or I will likely do more damage than necessary. And I need you to give him something to bite down on. In case.”

That’s how Michael finds himself sliding his belt between Alex’s teeth and straddling Alex’s hips in a very different way than the last time he did so, hands holding down his thighs while Kyle gets to work.

He can feel Alex fighting him, but he’s weakened by the fever and Michael can hold him still. He can’t see his face, but he can hear the noises he makes, the way he screams as Kyle cuts into him. He doubts he’ll ever be able to forget that. Or the sight of Kyle cutting into Alex’s leg. He quickly closes his eyes, but he sees too much as it is. And he’s absolutely certain the smell of so much of Alex’s blood will stick with him forever.

* * *

“Will he recover?” Michael asks softly, tracing the smooth skin of Alex’s brow with his thumb. Without the perpetual worry lines, he looks the same as he did when they were younger.

“We’ll have to wait and see,” Kyle responds. “I just gave him a chance.” Kyle is cleaning up his instruments, collecting bloody cloth to try to wash or get rid of, along with the severed remainder of Alex’s leg.

Michael can’t help but furrow his brow at the reminder of what Alex has lost. Because of him. Because he was trying to save _him_.

“You’re _his_ Michael, aren’t you?” Kyle asks, interrupting his dark thoughts.

Michael doesn’t answer, merely moving to help Kyle clean up the blood. He doesn’t look at Kyle when he asks, “How do _you_ know him?”

Kyle sits down next to Alex, holding his wrist, checking his pulse as he talks, “We were on a naval ship together. My first and only. His first too. The men there, they…” He takes a deep breath, “He protected me from them. Took all of it on himself. The least I could do was bandage up his wounds. And take care of him, as best I could.”

Michael fights back a sudden surge of jealousy at the thought of Kyle touching Alex. But he reminds himself that it’s not fair of him. Alex had someone to take care of him when Michael couldn’t. That’s what matters. “That sounds like Alex,” he replies softly. He wants to say it sounds like _his_ Alex but, well, that ended long ago.

“We never…” Kyle swallows. “I don’t know if he just didn’t want me or if what they did to him… He was just a friend. A good friend.” He pauses before adding, “He told me about you. Just a bit. About how kind you were to him. How he loved you.” He sets down Alex’s wrist and joins Michael in cleaning up the blood. “I never met his father, but he sounds like a monster. Who gives their child that kind of ultimatum?”

Michael stills, even holding his breath. He desperately wants to know what Kyle is talking about, but he knows that, if he asks, he’ll never get an answer.

And then, thankfully, Kyle continues to rant, “Of course he’d choose the navy over watching you be hanged, but then… All that happened after…” Kyle turns to smile at him, a smile that Michael tentatively returns, mind still reeling at the revelation that Alex had saved him from the hangman’s noose and that was why Alex never came to find him. “I’m glad he found you again. He deserves to be happy. And loved.”

“Me too,” Michael finally manages to reply, even while he’s struggling to catch up to the fact that Alex hadn’t chosen the navy over him. That maybe, just maybe, Alex loved him the whole time, just as Michael had loved him.

“Look, Alex is going to need to stay here,” Kyle gestures around the room, “Until he’s on the mend. Why don’t you stay here with him?”

“I couldn’t impose,” Michael starts, even though he very much would like to. Now that Alex is here in front of him again, Michael aches to care for him, to hold him, to love him.

“I have many duties on this ship, Michael,” Kyle says. “I can’t stay and watch Alex. I’m asking you to do that for me. And to come find me if anything changes.” Michael doesn’t know if that’s true or if he’s giving an excuse that allows him to take the hospitality, but he accepts it easily when it’s for Alex.

* * *

Alex’s recovery is slow and not exactly steady. He’s just as stubborn as Michael remembered, insisting on overworking himself and then suffering the setbacks from it.

He’s not exactly happy to be cared for by Michael, but he seems to accept it as a necessity and, truthfully, that’s all Michael can ask for.

He’s better with Kyle, much to Michael’s frustration, letting him fuss over him and tend to his injury, as well as the damage he does when he overworks himself. And he talks to Kyle, their heads together, quiet conversations that Michael wishes he could be privy to.

But Alex does allow Michael to share his bed at night. Michael doesn’t push for more than sleep, certain Alex isn’t ready for that, but he does get the comfort of being able to hold Alex, to know that he’s safe and alive in his arms.

When they come across Isobel’s ship, he suddenly realizes that it’s not a given that Alex will choose to come with him. Maria has warmed to him considerably. The crew adores him, where they merely tolerate Michael. And Kyle is there.

He’s certain he’ll have to talk both Isobel and Alex into this. And he starts with the woman who is like a sister to him.

He’s surprised to find that Isobel only needs to hear that it’s Alex for her to accept him onto the ship. Michael has told her about his childhood and, while she’s not happy about the idea of bringing someone else on board, she does seem to want Michael to be happy.

And then Alex gives in easily, but he doesn’t look happy about it. Michael wants to tell him he can stay on Maria’s ship, that Michael will plead with her to let him stay too, if that will make him smile just once. But he doesn’t. He helps Alex board, arm out for support as Alex balances on his newly-carved, wooden leg.

* * *

It’s chaos aboard the ship. Naval men everywhere, the sound of swords clashing, the smell of blood and gunpowder, the occasional crack of a pistol going off. Michael is fighting a man who looks horribly familiar. And he’s losing. He feels the man’s blade cut into his arm, thankfully missing its target, and bites back a cry of pain.

But then he manages to turn it around, thrusting his own blade through the other man’s chest and shoving him to the ground, scrambling to move onward.

He needs to find Alex. That’s the only thing he can think about right now.

He slips on something wet, likely blood, and hits his back hard for a moment, fighting the instinct to curl up into a ball to avoid being kicked, even after all these years. Instead, he forces himself to his feet, continuing to fight.

The tide is turning. He can see Isobel slicing through man after man, normally impeccable outfit stained crimson.

Max is tossing men overboard left and right.

He can’t see most of the rest of the crew, but the crowd is thinning and he needs to get to Alex.

So he shoves through, stabbing any naval man who gets in his way, scrambling down into the ship, running until he sees their quarters.

The door is ajar and a member of the navy stands in front of the bed.

He can make out Alex’s form, fighting the man off with anything he can reach, but it’s not enough and Michael isn’t sure he’ll reach them in time.

He watches the man’s blade swing down as he somehow manages to pick up speed, flying forward so fast that he slams full force into the man, knocking him to the side and away from the bed.

He doesn’t pause when he recognizes Jesse Manes, merely slicing downwards with his own blade, through the man’s throat.

And then he turns to Alex, terrified of what he’ll find.

Much to his relief, Alex is sitting up in their bed, merely raising an eyebrow at him as he pulls his father’s blade out of his wooden leg. “I was trying to get this on so I could join the fight,” Alex’s voice is soft.

The cheer Michael hears from above suggests it’s all over anyway. “I’ll be needed to help take care of the bodies.” He turns around, grabbing Jesse Manes’s corpse and dragging it with him.

* * *

“Why are you being so kind to me?” Alex asks mere hours later, when Michael returns to their bunk, covered in blood and gore. Alex has clearly spent the time putting their space back in order, cleaning up the blood.

This has been the best month of Michael’s life, with the exception of the past day. He’s been able to spend the days working alongside Isobel, her brother, Max, and the rest of the crew and the night curled up around Alex Manes. They haven’t done anything more than sleeping in the same bed, but Michael is absolutely content with just that for the rest of his life, if that’s what Alex wants.

“That’s what we do, isn’t it?” Michael asks Alex softly, wishing he could reach for him, but well aware that touch isn’t always welcome, even if it’s his. And it can be hard for him to tell what Alex wants and what he thinks he should allow. So, mostly, he lets Alex take the lead. Which means the exquisite torture of sleeping in the same bed as the man he loves.

“Is it? Because I know I haven’t been carrying my own weight,” Alex gestures at his leg, which he’s been slowly learning to walk on again with help of the wooden one Michael fashioned for him. “I’m no _use_ to you, Michael. I’m no use to _anyone_! If anything else happens, I’ll just slow you down.” He takes a breath and continues, “My father could have _killed_ you! Because of me! Because I couldn’t protect you! I couldn’t even protect _myself_!”

“I don’t care!” he shouts in response without even thinking. “I don’t fucking care, Alex! I wish I had answers for you, but I _don’t_! I don’t fucking care who carries whose weight, just as long as it’s you and me! I don’t need you to _protect_ me! I just need you _with_ me!”

Alex looks even angrier, if possible, but his anger has always been quiet and controlled, “That’s not enough for me. I can’t be a burden. I can’t get you _killed_!”

Michael feels like he’s been slapped. It hurts far more than that. All he can hear is that he’s not enough for Alex. “I… I got it. I can’t fix your leg, Alex,” he manages to get out. “I can’t… I can’t fix any of it.” He steps backward, toward the door, “I’ll, um… I’ll be below deck, if you need me.” He’ll find a place to sleep with the rest of the crew.

“No, Michael,” Alex’s voice is suddenly soft. “I’ll go. You… These are your quarters. I’ll… Find some place else.” He’s pushing himself to his feet or, well, foot.

Michael shakes his head, quickly moving to stop him. “Alex, what’s mine is yours. Every bit of it. I want you to sleep in here. Whether or not I’m here with you.”

That’s when Alex surprises him even more. He stills completely, eyes meeting Michael’s. “What’s yours is mine?”

Michael nods, confused. “Yeah.”

“You… Don’t think you owe me? That’s not what this is about?”

He almost laughs, “Didn’t I say as much?”

“And it’s not guilt or pity that has you caring for me?”

Michael wants to ask him how he could possibly think that anyone would _pity_ him, but he simply shakes his head.

“Does that mean…? Am I your…?” Alex seems to be struggling to find the appropriate word. And then he stops, frustrated, switching instead to, “What is this? To you?”

Michael steps closer, emboldened by the fact that Alex doesn’t flinch or move away. “I love you,” he says. “And I plan to keep on loving you as long as you’ll let me.” In truth, he’s loved Alex since he was a child. It hadn’t even disappeared during that long separation, when he thought Alex had left him. He just thought Alex didn’t love him.

“And do you still desire me?” Alex’s tone is uncertain, but maybe just a bit hopeful.

“Fuck, yes,” Michael breathes. “It’s been torture, laying next to you and not touching you as more than a friend.”

Alex nods, “Okay.”

He’s opening his mouth to ask what that means, but then Alex’s soft lips are pressed against his. Michael knows it won’t fix everything, it doesn’t work like that, but he also knows it’s going to get so much better, now that they’re on the same page.

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 2 coming tomorrow!


End file.
